The way your soul swells up like a balloon inside of your chest when you're overcome with a sudden wave of inspiration. When you want to do everything all at once, but don't know where to begin. When you have to do something, but reality and responsibility are keeping you chained to your post, helpless. The way your heart aches and breaks when you realize how little your human self can accomplish in the short time you're allotted, with the few resources you've been given, with the wiry and often ill-ridden body you're trapped inside of. The way you stay up late at night, eyes wide, spinning ideas like thread, bargaining for more time, for a greater purpose, for a magic spell to become something more. The way you can't believe in just anything like you used to, but how you have to believe in the music, in the words, in the bits of left over spirit and soul you find while staring at a painting, transported by a novel, enraptured by a poem... The way the world suddenly becomes clear when you stop trying to force it to make sense. How you can only find your way, after you've let yourself wander 'til you're lost.